Please Don't Die
by redrose7856
Summary: Tag for "Trapdoor". What exactly was Rachel seeing when she watched the accused murderer of her parents come racing with a gun to her aide. Rachel's POV.


**Disclaimer: I don't own "Life" or its characters. They were invented by NBC, who enjoys torturing its viewers with month-long hiatuses……hiatusii….breaks!**

**A/N: This is my first "Life fanfic, so please don't slam me. ALSO, this is dedicated to avidmind, star jelly, and everyone else who has been so awesome on the forum "life as we know it". Thanks guys!**

I walked into the house, tossing my keys onto the table beside the door. I heard footsteps and smiled. Doubtless it was Ted or Charlie, coming to check up on me and make sure I wasn't drunk or anything like that. Rounding the corner, I saw the tall figure of a man. Even in the semi-darkness, I could tell that it wasn't Charlie. Or Ted. And he was holding something. My heart began to race.

The man suddenly turned, and I did what seemed to be the smartest thing to do at the moment: I screamed. Instantly, the man ran off, and I heard the thudding of feet and looked up as Charlie appeared at the top of the stairs.

"There was a man," I said in a shaking voice as he began his descent, cocking his gun on the way.

"Where?" he demanded.

"I thought it was Ted, but it wasn't," I babbled on, clinging to the closest pillar for dear life.

"Did he have a gun?" Charlie inquired. I bit my lip, uncertain.

"He was holding something, he went down the hall," I explained. He nodded, peering in that direction before looking back at me.

"Go back into your room. Go. Lock the door and don't come out," he instructed before turning. Instantly, my mind began to scream two simple words: _Not him!_

"Uncle Charlie?" I burst out. He turned, looking confused. Not that I blamed him. I hadn't called him that since, well, _before_. I stared at him, unable to shape my current emotions into the rights words. Finally, I uttered the three words that were rolling through my mind right then: "Please don't die." I immediately kicked myself. Idiot! Possibly the most important words I would ever say to him, and _that's_ all I could come up with?

To my immense relief, Uncle Charlie smiled and reached over to touch my cheek. Most people would have been annoyed at being petted like that, but after twelve years of no one else understanding, being with him was exactly what I needed. We both knew the pain of what had happened. I wouldn't make it without him.

"I won't," he promised before striding down the hallway in full police officer mode. I watched him head for the main door and then we both heard the intruder running towards the kitchen. Darting back, Uncle Charlie fired twice. There was a yell and a thud. I darted forward, as if I could do anything to help.

"You shot me? You shot me!" yelled a voice from the kitchen. Uncle Charlie lowered his gun, looking confused. He looked back at me, as if noticing for the first time that I hadn't moved towards my room.

"Stay there!" he commanded before walking towards the kitchen.

"Who is that?" I called, following him anyway. He went into the kitchen and turned on the light. I blinked, staring at the elderly man who was currently writhing around on the ground in pain, clutching his leg.

"You broke into my house! What the h--- were you doing?" Uncle Charlie demanded angrily.

"You shot me!" the man whined, as if Uncle Charlie would listen to the man who just broke into his house and scared the crap out of me because he was wounded. Well, he tried.

"I asked you a question," Uncle Charlie growled.

"I came to bring you this!" the man spat, tossing a scroll of some kind at Uncle Charlie. "Tube was her idea. Couldn't just be in an envelope. Didn't expect to find some girl screaming. I was trying to get out of here but this house is like a d--- maze! What's a man need all these hallways for? I couldn't find the d--- door!"

"Do you know him?" I asked as the man continued to grumble and complain under his breath.

"Yeah. He's my father," Uncle Charlie answered. I felt my jaw dropping. Not knowing what else to do, I simply said, "Oh" and waited for someone else to say something.

"Who the h--- are you?" Mr. Crews demanded, glaring at me.

"A friend," Uncle Charlie snapped, grabbing for the phone.

"Who are you calling?" I asked.

"Police," he answered. I felt a shiver run up my spine. The only policeman I trusted at the moment was him.

As if sensing my thoughts, Uncle Charlie reached back and smiled at me. I smiled back, all my worries seeming to evaporate. He'd rescued me and taken care of me. He'd even shot his own dad – albeit by mistake – to protect me. He wouldn't let me down now.

**Hope this isn't too lame! Please review and let me know what you think!**


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